


G.R.O.W

by chefke, MykEsprit



Series: Harry Potter One Shots [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 17:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chefke/pseuds/chefke, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MykEsprit/pseuds/MykEsprit
Summary: Between her eight-year-old twins and a stressful Ministry job, Hermione Granger is too busy to dwell on her upcoming birthday.  And then her long-term boyfriend Neville starts acting very suspicious...





	G.R.O.W

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot was done as part of a writing contest by the facebook group, ‘Hermione’s Haven.’ The contest is a 'roll-a-thon,' designed to have two author's co-write a fic using a prompt.
> 
> Beta Love: Lioness_Snake and Monkey  
> You guys are amazing!
> 
> This entry was written as a collaborative by two authors on AO3. The prompt was, 'Hermione's birthday is just around the corner and her boyfriend wants to get her something special. He got her something fantastic the year before so he really has to up his game. Her friends are no help and everything seems so basic. With Hermione constantly snooping around, he has to find creative ways to keep her off the trail of what he's getting her. Somehow he keeps everything under wraps until the big reveal on her birthday.'
> 
> ENJOY!
> 
> Disclaimer: We own nothing from Harry Potter. All characters and ideas are solely the property of JK Rowling (Long live the Queen) and all that stuff.

**G.R.O.W**

Hermione rushed out of the lift and into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, praying her heel would not snap. She knew she should have worn the beige flats but she had been in a terrible rush. The twins had been an absolute bloody nightmare! As a woman in her thirties sometimes she felt as if she should have her life more organized. Having two eight year olds arguing about their breakfast, their snack, and their ruddy shoes was enough to make her still impressive mane fall out.

Neville had been working on a Herbology trip for the first years at Hogwarts. He needed approval from Minerva as the plant in question bloomed earlier than intended and was ready for viewing next week rather than next month. Since he needed to catch Minerva when she was free, he had had to leave early that morning. Hermione smiled as she thought of her devoted partner.

He loved to educate children in a kind and nurturing manner that put Professor Snape’s methods to shame. He was so good at talking to their children. He probably would have explained to Frank calmly that if he wore one wellie and flip flop he would fall. Allie probably would have just eaten her cereal because there was no time to make pancakes when everyone woke up late.

She shuffled into the main reception area to meet Caleb Gentry. He was leaning against the secretary’s desk that was apparently vacant. Why was it that secretaries never came on time? Caleb was a co-worker who was taking a break from his work on Goblin relief to aide in her quest to create equal rights and privileges for the werewolf community.

“Good morning Caleb.” Hermione smiled, as he handed her a coffee.

“Had a tough morning with Frank and Allie, Hermione?” He asked. Hermione rolled her eyes. Caleb enjoyed using her children’s first names for reasons that were unbeknownst to her, Neville, and most probably Caleb himself.

“Yes, Caleb.” She pronounced each syllable in his name, chuckling to herself. Two could play this game. She moved towards her office but he stood in front of her.

“So Granger… when are you going to leave the herby boy and settle down for a real man?” Hermione rolled her eyes, not Caleb too. Being a woman in a predominantly male field was annoying enough without having co-workers hitting on her all the time. Caleb usually wasn’t a problem. She was about to give him her speech on sexism and women's equal rights when she heard a familiar laugh coming from the conference room.

She ducked around Caleb and was about to open the conference room door when her partner stepped out holding a coffee. Neville Longbottom’s eyes hadn’t been this wide since Professor Dumbledore awarded him ten points to Gryffindor at the end of their first year, effectively winning them the house cup. To his credit though, his old auror instincts kicked in and he recovered quickly.

“Morning Hermione.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“I thought you had to speak to-” She asked. She was interrupted by Elizabeth, exiting the conference room whilst adjusting her neon pink pencil skirt. She smiled at Hermione her entire face brightening exhibiting her youth and perfect complexion.

“Good morning Miss. Granger.” She flicked her long blonde hair out of her face with her thin manicured nails.

“Good morning Elizabeth.” She chuckled through her dark red lips, her pretty blue eyes sparkling under heavy mascara and shiny periwinkle eyeshadow.

“Please! Just Lizzy, only my grandmother calls me Elizabeth.” She waved away Hermione as she walked off to her desk. Caleb was still leaning against it when she swiveled into her chair and began to shuffle bits of parchment. He leaned over and began to whisper to her urgently as she settled into her work.

Hermione tried very hard to steel features as she turned to Neville. What were they doing in that room with the door closed? It was 9:05. There was no way he was already done with Professor Mcgonagall's meeting. He had specifically made the request for a meeting with her on Thursday because she didn’t have any meetings in the morning.

“Neville…” She started.

“I came to bring you coffee but you already have one.” He took a hasty sip from the cup he was holding. Dating back to Hogwarts, Neville and Hermione had always liked their drinks skin burning hot. Their drinks were so hot that when the twins were toddlers she consistently had nightmares about one of them burning themselves on their parent’s beverages. Neville’s coffee was not only not smoking but she could see stale white cream around the brim of the cup. Her brain whirled as she calculated the time frame for when he must have ordered the drink and wondered what he had been busy with that he had not cast a simple stasis charm.

“Love, I can literally see your mind moving. There’s nothing to worry about. You know how much I love you.” Neville leaned over and pressed his lips gently on hers.

“Sweetie, you look unbelievably stressed. How about I pick up the kids and you rest a bit before we all come barreling into the house. We’ll pick up takeaway from that Thai place on Third?” She nodded trying to squash the uneasy feeling in her gut.

Every year before and during the start of term at Hogwarts Neville always acted oddly at home. He had been known to obsessively clean, reorganize every single book they owned, and cook atrocious food in the kitchen among other things. They were all different methods he used for coping with the stress of wanting the first years to have the perfect start of the year. Hermione loved how nervous he was about each new batch of students. As the years came and went Hermione expected his love for teaching to dull, as most do, but his fervor only increased every year.

He was so unbelievably devoted to his students and it wasn’t a one way relationship. Students adored him and were even known to come around during the summer for tutoring or just to hang out with their beloved professor. It was one of the main reasons Hermione loved the summer, it was filled with picnics and laughter, all while watching Hogwarts students attempt to teach their children Quidditch.

Eyeing his timepiece, he sighed. He had a second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in twenty minutes. “I’ve got to head out. I’ll see you later, yah? Say hi to Harry for me!” He kissed her forehead and headed to the floo station on her floor. Hermione let herself into her office, dropping her bag idly on the floor near her chair. She had an entire wizarding world to change today.

Neville ran into his Herbology classroom. After checking that all of his plants for the lesson were already sitting on the students desks he hurried into his drawer. He double and triple checked that the stubs were there. He wanted everything to be perfect for Hermione’s birthday this year. Last year he had taken her to ten of the largest and most famous libraries in the whole world. It had been a month long trip and their little family had so much fun he wasn’t sure if he could top it.

It wasn’t that he needed to get her extravagant birthday gifts. She had never asked for it and likely never would, but he knew she needed it. She was a selfless person who gave her entire self for the sake of other people. She wanted everyone to be treated equally and fairly and Neville couldn’t be prouder of the love of his life for fighting for those who could not fight for themselves.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent daydreaming about how damn lucky he was when he heard soft giggling. Snapping back to the present he became very aware of a full classroom of giggling students. Smiling at the face in front of him he welcomed his class and began his lesson for the day counting down the minutes until he would get home and see his girl and his kids.

“…and then, Ron and I stripped down to our skivvies and joined Cirque du Soleil.” Said Harry.

Hermione only continued to stare out of the large window of the deli, her mind having lost track of the conversation in lieu of jumping to conclusions regarding her dodgy partner.

“Hermione.” She heard Harry say.

“What?” She said, dragging her eyes across the table to meet her best friend’s exasperated gaze.

“You’re missing comedy gold, here.” He said. “What’s the matter? Something at work bothering you? Is Hitchens giving you a hard time with the draft of your werewolf rights bill? I swear, those Wizengamot members are getting more ornery with every session.”

He picked up the other half of his roast beef sandwich on brie and took a large bite.

“No.” She said. “Well – I mean, yes, he’s been threatening to pull support for the bill – but that’s not what’s worrying me.”

“Okay, what is it, then? Gentry being a pain in the arse again? You just give me the word, Hermione, and I’ll plant incriminating evidence in his desk that will put him in Azkaban for a while. Let’s see how feels being on the other side of unwanted solicitation from creepy bastards–”

“No, I’m not thinking about Caleb.” She said, and then asked, out of curiosity, “What would you put in Caleb’s desk that would get him sent to Azkaban?”

Harry leaned toward her, with an impish smile, and said, in a low voice, “I could cook up a ledger that would make it look like he runs an underground Pygmy Puff fighting ring.”

She laughed as he winked at her and took another mouthful of his sandwich. A dollop of mayonnaise stuck to the corner of his mouth, and she playfully threw a paper napkin at him.

“And he would just keep that in the top drawer of his desk at the Ministry, would he?” She asked, still giggling.

“You would be surprised at the secrets we men keep in our desk drawers.” He said. He put the last of the roast beef sandwich in his mouth and chewed, a heroic feat considering the large portion.

“Anyway, I wasn’t worrying about him. I was just thinking about Neville.” She said. “I came in this morning after dropping the twins off at day school, and Neville was already at my department. Did you happen to see him?”

Harry stopped chewing and looked at her with a wide-eyed mien. He shook his head.

“He said that he would be in a meeting with Minerva, so he wasn’t able to help me out with the kids this morning. Then, next thing I see of him, he’s stepping out of my conference room.” She said, unable to suppress the jealousy in her voice, “with Elizabeth.”

Harry swallowed his food in a loud gulp. “Huh,” he said. “Well, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, Hermione. I wouldn’t waste any more energy on it, if I were you.”

He stood up, as if in a hurry and stepped over to her side of the table. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. I have a large caseload today.”

“Taking down a Pygmy Puff Kingpin this afternoon?” She asked, with a wry smirk.

“Nargle smuggling.” He said and leaned down to peck her on the forehead, before rushing out of the deli.

She wiped the stray crumbs from the messy kiss off her forehead and watched out the window as Harry entered the Ministry building across the street.

  
~

 

After Neville picked up the kids from day school, he brought them to Grimmauld Place for a quick playdate with James and Albus Potter. The twins were a few years older than the Potter brood, but they loved to play with their “cousins,” who hero-worshiped them.

He and Ginny sat at the parlor drinking tea as the children played hide-and-seek. While clever Allie hid behind the massive curtains, Frankie generously ignored the younger boys’ rather obvious locations. James had crouched behind Ginny’s sofa, but rather gave himself away with his loud giggling. Albus, little more than a toddler, crawled underneath the coffee table, with his chubby legs sticking out, and tried his very best to stay quiet.

Neville shared an amused look with Ginny, who covered her mouth to stifle her laughter.

The Floo briefly came to life, and Harry stepped out of the fireplace.

“Neville!” He said. “It’s a good thing you’re here. I was just going to contact you about something.”

Harry greeted his wife, who gestured for him to not draw attention to their sons whilst they hid.

“What’s going on, Harry?” Neville asked.

“I had lunch with Hermione today,” Harry said, a frown forming on his face.

“Oh?”

“She told me that she caught you meeting with Elizabeth this morning.”

“Ah...” said Neville.

“Yes.” Said Harry. “She seemed upset, Nev. I think you should tell her what’s going on.”

“It’s only for a few more days.” Said Neville. “After what happened last year, I want to make sure to keep things under wraps this time around.”

Harry sighed. Last year, Neville had spent months planning a trip to the top ten famous libraries around the world. He had been so careful to keep his surprise only to find out Hermione had found out pretty early on and was pretending to be surprised. She had even packed in advance.

“Do you know if she’s gone home?” Neville asked.

“I stopped by her office a few minutes before I left.” Said Harry and looked at the grandfather clock next to the mantle. “She said she would be heading home right after she filed some paperwork. Should be home by now.”

Neville nodded and stood up from his armchair. “I think I should see to her. Smooth things over. Is it okay if the kids stay here for another hour or so?”

“We’ll feed them dinner.” Ginny said. “Go, make sure Hermione is all right.”

“Thanks.” He said, as he pinched a bit of Floo powder to head home.

 

No one greeted Hermione when she Flooed into the living room of their Hogsmeade cottage.

She walked through the narrow hallway, glancing at the family photos adorning the white walls. Each one encapsulated happy moments over the last ten years of their relationship and the eight years since they’ve been blessed with the twins. Their facsimiles waved at her as she passed by, their expressions full of mirth and soundless laughter.

As Hermione happened upon the door to Neville’s study, which was slightly ajar, she saw him standing over the mahogany table, tying a ribbon around a square, flat box.

She nudged the door to open wider. “Neville?” She asked.

“Hermione!” He dropped the box in an open drawer and pushed it closed with his hip. He leaned casually against the desk. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home. Did you come through the Floo? I didn’t hear you.”

She walked over and curled her fingers around the handle of the top drawer. “What’s in here?” She asked.

Neville shook his head, keeping his eyes somewhere over her right shoulder. “I don’t – What?”  
Hermione tugged at the drawer, but he kept his hand firmly over it, keeping it in place. A playful smile slowly formed on her face.

“Is this what I think it is?” She asked.

“No idea what you’re talking about, love.” He said.

“My birthday’s in a few days, which means,” she said, pulling at the drawer, “that’s my birthday present in there.” She yanked the handle. The drawer hit Neville’s fingers, and he pulled his hand off the desk. Hermione snatched the red, velvet box and hurriedly untied the ribbon, swatting Neville’s hands away as he made to wrench it from her grasp.

She uncovered the lid and took out an extraordinary piece of jewelry: a sizeable ruby pendant, bordered with diamonds and hanging from a gold chain.

It was opulent, attention-grabbing, and dazzling – and not to her taste. However, she knew a certain blonde with a flashy sense of fashion who would love this necklace.

She held it up the light, perplexed. Then, she shifted her confused gaze to Neville.

“All right, you’ve found me out.” He said. “That’s for your birthday.”

“Oh.” She said, numbly.

Relief flooded her chest; she berated herself for thinking that the jewelry was meant for someone else. It was soon followed, however, with a wave of disappointment that Neville didn’t discern the kind of jewelry she would have liked.  
Neville unclasped the chain and brought it around her neck, fixing it in place. The heavy pendant hung low on her chest, reaching past the third button on her silk blouse.

“The chain’s a tad long.” She said.

He answered with a sly smile and said, “You’re right. It looks a bit off.”

Neville’s hands went to the top of her blouse, slowly undoing the buttons to expose her flesh until the ruby pendant lay nestled between the mounds of her lace-covered breasts.

“Better.” He said, but his fingers continued their slow descent until the last button had been undone. He brought his hands below the collar and slid the blouse off her shoulders, and it pooled on the mahogany wood behind her.

“Much better.” He said.

Neville trailed a finger along the metal chain, skimming her increasingly sensitive skin as he reached the pendant. He moved the pendant aside and pressed his lips against the skin where it had lain.

She felt his hands grab the backs of her thighs, and he gently picked her up and eased her onto the desk. He leaned her back, and she felt his fingers maneuver with the clasp of her bra.

He slipped the straps down her arms, and his eyes traveled from her eyes, to her lips, then to the pendant, now snuggled between her bared breasts.

“Gods above, you’re beautiful.” She heard him murmur.

He picked up the stray ribbon, where she haphazardly threw it on the desk, with one hand; with the other, he clasped both of her wrists. He bound her wrists with the fabric, saying, in a rough voice, “To keep those naughty hands from giving me any more trouble.”

Neville pressed her further down onto the surface of the desk, pushing his stacks of herbology and potions journals to the floor. His lips caught hers in a brief kiss before they languorously made their way down her neck and to her chest. There, they tarried a bit longer, lavishing attention first on the tip of one breast, and then the other.

While his lips were busy, his fingers were distracted with pushing up the hem of her grey skirt. When the bundle of fabric could hike up no more, he reached inside and curled his fingers around the sides of her matching lace knickers, pulling them down past her knees and over each ankle.  
His lips left her torso, and Hermione registered the cool air where he had licked her sensitive skin. She was soon distracted by the soft thud of his knees hitting the carpet, and his hands firmly grasping her bum as he positioned her on the edge of the desk.

Neville carelessly threw a leg over each of his shoulders, and her thoughts evaporated, like a drop of water on a hot pan, as he swiped his tongue over a rapid-firing bundle of nerves.

She became pure, unadulterated need –a need to gasp for air as her lungs hyperinflated; a need to scream as the pressure built inside her head; a need to thrash against the solid wood of the desk as her body sought release.

When her mind finally re-entered her body, she felt Neville press soft kisses on the insides of her thighs. Then he got up and kissed her neck, up to her earlobe, and said, “I’ve got to go.”

“Huh?” She asked, fighting to regain the ability for speech.

She felt him smile against her cheek. “I have to go pick up the kids from the Potters.”

“Hmm,” was her only reply.

Neville gave her a kiss on the top of her cheekbone and said, “I’ll come back soon with the kids and dinner for the two of us.”

He walked out of the room, and a minute later, she heard the Floo roar to life.

Hermione lied on the desk for a long time. She stared up at the eggshell ceiling, trying to remember her last train of thought before Neville so thoroughly distracted her.

She brought her hands up to run her fingers through her hair when the tightness around her wrists reminded her of the ribbon. She brought it up to her face and gave an experimental tug. The strong fabric hardly stretched, and it didn’t have any give as she tried to jerk her wrists free.

Her wrists were pink with chafing against the unforgiving ribbon when she heard, from the living room, “Mum! Where are you?”

“Bollocks!” She said.

Hermione ran to the door – still topless and with her grey skirt bunched up to her hip bones – and slammed it shut. She hunted for her wand, a pair of scissors, or a letter opener – anything to help her get out of Neville’s wrist traps before she inadvertently scarred her kids for life.

 

Hermione woke up the next morning feeling frustrated. The night had consisted of several more passionate lead ups to sex but each one had been interrupted. The first time Frank woke up with a nightmare and they both ran to comfort and quiet him before he woke up his sister sleeping five feet from him. They had finally gotten him back to sleep and were about to pick up were they had left off when an urgent floo called Neville away and kept him for over two hours. He came back begging forgiveness with apologies about students and a prank involving Weasley Wizarding Wheezes and the Squid from the Black Lake that apparently now had a home in right in front of the main staircases. It apparently had taken two of his co-workers to move the irate creature back to lake and then another four to remove the body of water that was flowing through the castle.

He had just finished the tale when an urgent owl from work called her from their bed. A werewolf was sighted in London and was causing hysterics. Hermione calmly explained to whatever idiot Auror had written her at two in the morning that it was not the full moon and therefore it was actually impossible for an actual werewolf to be running about London. After two more letters from an apologetic Auror Podmore about idiotic rookies, it was apparently a highly intoxicated witch who had transfigured her equally intoxicated boyfriend into a werewolf to ‘spice up’ their bedroom activities. Neville sat beside Hermione roaring with laughter as she read aloud the contents of the final letter. After two cups of tea they finally went back to bed giving up on any sort of fun that night. They had been asleep for not even an hour when they were awoken by Allie having a nightmare. Allie’s shrill screams woke her overly protective brother and by the time Neville and Hermione got to their room the two were snuggling in Allie’s bed. Frank was hugging his younger sister tightly and Allie was sniffling into his shoulder mumbling about stuffed turkeys. Their parents both took out their wands and enlarged the bed. They each climbed into one end of the bed snuggling their children between them. Sleep came quickly for the small house filled with love and happiness.

Hermione was thankful for the small miracles. The death of Voldemort, retraction of the Muggleborn laws that Umbridge had enacted, and the fact that Neville didn't have work on Fridays so he took over the morning prep while Hermione drank as much coffee as her small body would allow. She kissed her partner and children goodbye as she Flooed to the Ministry. She smiled at several people in the lift and waited patiently until she got out at her level.

Her normally quiet department was a flurry of movement as the full moon approached. She had to fill out paperwork regarding the incident from the night before which her department would find as a source of amusement for a very long time. When she was done she approached Elizabeth and looked over the list of walkins and appointments for the day. It was a mix of  
Werewolves seeking shelter that they couldn't always provide, monetary help with pain potion or wolfsbane, and often people who found random scratches they feared to be of werewolf origins. They usually were not.

Hermione spent the better half of the morning calming down some fifteen people who had gone muggle hiking and came back with ‘scratches' and skin irritation. Despite her assurances that none of them had ‘werewolf poisoning.’ She had had to summon a healer from Saint Mungo’s to calm them all while she documented the entire ordeal.

She was about to go to lunch when a small, sandy haired boy came in and sat quietly at reception. The boy reminded her so much of Remus Lupin from his first year pictures that Hermione dropped her purse and sat beside him. The boy couldn't have been older than Frank or Allie.

“Hello.” She smiled at him. He looked up nervously at her.

“Hello ma’am.” He replied.

“What might your name be little fella?”

“Markus. Markus Willoughby.” She froze at the name. The Willoughbys were a powerful and rich family old Pureblood family. The family originally gained their vast wealth by creating and selling broom lines such as the cleansweeps. In the early 1900’s the family sold most of the broom lines and moved into potion care products with Charlus Potter. It was rumored that the head of the Willoughby family lived on his own tropical island in Bermuda where he could get away from his ruddy relatives. She only knew all of this because Harry had said Mr. Willoughby had reached out to him after the war wanting to know the only grandson of his old friend, Charlus Potter. Apparently Harry’s grandfather had been Hogwarts mates and business partners with the Mr. Willoughby. Mr. Willoughby had even gifted Harry with pictures of himself as his grandfather’s best man at his wedding.

“Markus, do your parents know that you're here?” The boy blanched at the mention of his parents. He looked around them to make sure they weren't being overheard by anyone. The waiting room was crowded but not so that people were sitting on top of each other.

“I need your help Miss Hermione Granger. I need a hero to save me.” He whispered. Hermione reached out her hand and walked him into her office, settling him into a chair. She handed him a gum drop and called to Elizabeth to bring tea.

“I am no hero Markus but what can I do for you?” The boy rubbed his shoulder for a moment before speaking.

“I got it. The bite. A couple of weeks ago.” Hermione sat quietly as the boy struggled to speak. Hermione had a million questions buzzing but knew she had to let the boy speak on his own.

“I was out playing late at night. I know I shouldn't have. My house elf Tipsy says I shouldn't but there were pretty aconite flowers that only bloom during a full moon and I wanted to see them. I read all about them in my mums old Ilvermorny herbology book. I….” The boy sniffled and Hermione handed him a tissue.

“I read about werewolves as well they can only infect you on a full moon. I… I didn't think. It was the full moon and werewolves are drawn to aconite. Our estate has a garden of them off the west gardens. There's a high wall separating the aconite gardens from the house. I climbed over it, it was covered in this weird mush paste.” They boy's eyes glossed over as he remembered what was possibly the worst night in his life.

“I tried to run Miss Hermione. I did, but the wall. It took a half hour to climb it and the wolf was chasing me. After… after it happened I couldn't get over the wall the mush on the wall burned my hands. I knew then. I called for my house elf and swore him to secrecy. I came to you for help. The full moon is coming up and I'm alone.” The last word was followed by a sob. Hermione flung herself at the boy and squeezed him tight. Once her tears had subsided she stepped back from him. The boy was pale with dark bags under his eyes.

“First and foremost thank you for feeling comfortable enough to share this with me. I know it's difficult.” He nodded.

“But I must, ask where are your parents?”

“Still in Paris, I suppose.” He waved his hand in a manner that reminded her of Draco Malfoy in their early years of school.

“Paris?”

“Mum's on a shopping trip to preview the winter fashion lines and Dad’s in Germany on a trip with his schoolmates.” Hermione felt her stomach drop.

“How long have they been gone?”

“Mum four weeks and dad three.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal. As if his parents being gone for almost a month was normal.

“Who has been watching you this whole time?” She could feel her nerves rise up in her chest. Markus rolled his eyes.

“My house elf, Tipsy.” Hermione blood turned to ice. Leaving a child home alone with a house elf was classified as child abuse. Discreetly she wandlessly sent a memo to recall the healer and to summon someone from child services. She must not have been as discreet as she would have liked because the boy began to panic.

“But what has that go to do with the bite? It's not Tipsy's fault! I don't want her to get in trouble!” His voice was urgent and pleading and Hermione knelt down in front of him. She didn't want him to grow up with a fear or distrust of adults or the Ministry.

“Markus. Your parents are not allowed to leave you unattended for so long. It's against the law. In addition, I need their consent before administering any potions.” The boy began to tremble and she could actually see the spark of hope leaving his wide eyes.

“They won't! They won't consent! They'll chain me up in the basement! Please! Please don't tell them!” Hermione felt guilty knowing that the child protective services had likely already summoned the parents. In the wizarding world, where children were rare they were treated like diamonds. Neglecting a child was one of the worst offenses in the domestic law department.

“Markus. They are going to find out anyway.”

“No! They probably won't be home until Christmas!” He argued. There were tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. She could hear footsteps outside her door. She locked her door to give them a couple more minutes of privacy. Likely the adults were apprised on their son's condition by the CPS department.

“But Lycanthropy won't just go away, Markus. It's with you forever. They're bound to notice eventually.” Tears ran freely down the boys cheeks as shook his head. Hermione reached out and squeezed his hand.

“I can't do this alone.” He whispered. He was trembling and Hermione was cursing herself for feeling so helpless.

“You won't ever be alone Markus.” The boy nodded looking at Hermione sadly. All at once Hermione thought of Harry. He was eleven when they met but he had never had the opportunity to actually be eleven. He had always seemed older, more mature. Like this boy.

“My parents care about their image, their clothes, their friends, and the parties they attend. Having a son for a werewolf won't sit well with them. I'll be stuffed in a basement for the rest of my life.” Hermione shook off her anger at a boy so young being unloved, like her Harry.

“I won't let them. The Wizengamot won't let them. You have rights Markus. You're a person.” The boy began to cry as he clutched Hermione's hands.

At that moment the door flew open admitting two aurors, a member of CPS, and two irate looking adults. The woman wore a red slip over a mink fur coat, her face was adorned with diamonds and more makeup then Hermione owned. The red faced man was wearing finely tailored wizarding hunting clothes and Hermione remembered idly that Germany allowed hunting of endangered species and if you greased the right palms, muggles.

“How dare you!” Screeched the woman. “Spreading nasty lies about my son!” Hermione watched the two aurors shrink back from what was clearly Mrs. Willoughby. Hermione sent a patronus to Harry for backup as she attempted to calm the irate woman down.

She noticed Markus had shifted behind her while his mother shouted about the Ministry and destroying her career as his father calmly looked around her office as if nothing was wrong. Harry had arrived along with backup and two additional healers. Harry silenced and restrained the mother immediately as the healers moved behind her to look over Markus’s bite. There really was no need. Hermione could tell it was a werewolf bite just from looking at it.

When the healers confirmed it the mother cried and the father murmured something about giving Tipsy clothes. Harry had to further restrain Mrs. Willoughby while Hermione explained to Markus as well as his parents how their life would change.

“He is most certainly not spending time with the other vermin! Its enough we have to deal with this and you want us to give him potions and let him frolic as an animal with other beasts once a month?” His father retorted angrily when Hermione mentioned a glen in Scotland that was known for docile werewolves during the full moon, being amongst his kind would ease his transformation.

“Sir, its important your son gets the support he needs during this difficult time. To not give him the wolfsbane potion could be detrimental to his health.”

“His health? His health, you worry about? The shame of having a werewolf in my house and you worry about his health?!” The father scoffed.

“Sir. Your son-”

“Don't presume to tell me how to raise my son. I will do as I see fit. I have already spoken to my solicitor and you have no legal grounds to hold us here. Release my son immediately.”

“Sir your son needs to-”

“Granger you're a smart girl. I'm a powerful and rich man with many friends. If you think for a moment I'm going to allow you to drag my son into whatever charity case you're currently serving think again.” He stood his robes swishing about him coldly.

“Markus rise. Leave my family be or you'll be out of a job Granger. I may not be on the Wizengamot-”

“As a matter of fact Mr. Wiloughby my partner is a Longbottom, but please continue to threaten a member of the Ministry in her own office in front of witnesses.” Hermione waved her hand towards the aurors, healers, and CPS members still in the room. Mr. Willoughby mouth clamped down immediately.

“Furthermore, I may not be able to legally help your son as a werewolf but mark my words our Child Protective Services will be on your case every second of every day until Markus turns of age in which case I’ll be glad to assist him in as he rids himself of you two.” Mr. Willoughby grabbed his son's shoulder and stormed out of the office. Hermione looked up at Harry as the other aurors and CPS members chased after the family.

“Hermione….” Harry started. Hermione dropped her head into her hands, feeling dejected. The poor boy was being signed up for one of the most difficult lives in the wizarding world. To top it all off he had the most rotten parents that existed.

“There's literally nothing we can do. I was already on my way down here when I got your patronus. I was talking to our solicitors. Since he's a minor, he's under their care to do with what they see fit. There isn't anything the DMLE can do if his parents want to lock him in a dungeon and refuse treatment. It's not classified as child abuse. We could try and take them to court but the process could take years.” Hermione lost her will to speak. How could someone be so horrible to such a precious child? The Dursleys suddenly came to mind and a fresh bout of tears came over her.

“What about Mr. Willoughby? The one on the island? Could you reach out to him?” Harry’s entire face lit up at her suggestion.

“He has been mentioning he’s extremely lonely and he is in charge of all the holdings for the family. I’m sure the parents would cave if he threatened to put a hold on their trust funds!”

Five and a half hours and several Floo calls later, it was agreed that the young Mr. Willoughby and his house elf, Tipsy would be relocating to the home of his great grandfather where he would be looked after and cared for. Hermione begged permission to bring her children one sunday a month so the young boy could have friends. The older wizard agreed and thanked Hermione and Harry for their kindness. Harry left for his department mumbling about paperwork as he went.

It was hard working in a department that she felt so passionate about. It was mentally draining on a good day and bottom of a bottle drunk on a bad day. Today had been a tough day. The door opened and Hermione snapped her neck up to see Elizabeth carrying her fifth tray of tea. She mumbled her thanks for the tea and all her hard work that day.

She sipped her tea quietly as Elizabeth fussed around her. The vibrant young woman would make a great mother one day. She muttered something about wrinkles and people that work themselves to the bone as she straightened her desk. She set some cookies on the clean desk and excused herself as Hermione filled out a lengthy report. She finished her report at three fifteen and promptly remembered she hadn’t had lunch. A loud growl from her stomach confirmed her hunger and she was glad she had her own office if only to save her the embarrassment.

“I knew you wouldn't eat today.” She looked up to see Neville in her office. She got up and swung her arms around him.

“It's been such a day Neville!” Neville smiled and hugged her tightly.

“Harry called. I'm sorry Hermione. I was planning on coming anyway. I got surprise tickets to the opera for your birthday. It's for tonight. I'll understand if you don't want to go, we can sit in bed and drink hot chocolate just me and you. The kids are at Harry’s and-” Hermione kissed him soundly on the mouth.

“It sounds perfect.”

Hermione sat in front of her vanity mirror in her bedroom, her fingers idly tracing the red bauble that Neville had bought her. She stood, her black velvet dress pooling to her feet. She was showing off more skin then she was used to but if you didn’t show off for your partner every once in a while, there wasn’t much of a chance to show off. She quieted her mind as she compartmentalized her work life and her home life. It was hard to do but she wanted tonight to be about her and Neville. He was making a big effort for her birthday this year. He had made reservations to the Wizarding Opera House of the UK and despite her miserable day, Hermione was excited.

The last time she had been to the opera house was six years ago with Neville. It had been their grand opening and they had invited all the war heroes. It was the only reason they could afford to go. The opera was frequent to the wizarding elite from all over the world. There were only a handful of British wizards that could afford the pricey Opera house.

She slid on her black gloves, gently sliding them above her elbow and casting a permanent sticking charm lest they try to slide down her arms. She slipped on heels and walked over to the mirror. She was wearing a black velvet sweetheart dress that reached well passed her toes. It was the only reason she would entertain the idea of wearing heels. Remembering to cast a cushioning charm on her shoes she began to charm her hair up.

Hours later, Hermione gushed as they Apparated back into their living room. The Opera was… she smiled at Neville who had just taken off his shirt and pants and laid it in the washing pile. He had been fidgeting all night. He was probably worried that she wasn’t enjoying herself. She smiled fondly at him as he went into the shower. She was musing about her partner’s love for showers as she put her clothes gently atop of his, planning a surprise for him in the shower. She smirked to herself and almost stumbled when a small piece of parchment slipped out of his pocket.

She heard the shower turn off so she scanned it quickly, feeling all the blood drain from her face. The letter dropped from her fingers as her mind went into overdrive with all of the possibilities to excuse what she had just read. In her state she barely noticed her partner come up behind her and kiss her shoulder.

“Did you enjoy it Hermione? Was it a good birthday?” Neville murmured into her hair.

“Yes,” She breathed. “It was lovely. Thank you Neville.” He was running his hands over her body but stopped when he heard the tone of her voice. Turning her around, his eyes were filled with concern.

“Hermione are you still upset about the Willoughby family?” Hermione nodded mutely at him. Neville pulled her to bed, tucking her in before making an excuse to send out an owl. The last thing she saw before she fell asleep was the burning behind her eyes of the letter she had just read.

_Hermione suspects something is up. Please be more aware of her scheduling next time we meet. - Liz_

 

~

 

She sat at the breakfast nook, staring down at the table in consternation. She held her teacup halfway to her lips, as if she forgot that she wanted to take a sip of her Earl Grey.

“Hermione?” He asked.

She startled out of her reverie and looked at him with a blank expression.

“Are you okay, love?”

Hermione gave him a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes. Fine.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be here to help you out with the twins this morning.” He said. “There’s no one else to chaperone the students here at Hogsmeade. Filius has come down with a terrible case of Dragonpox- “

“Don’t worry.” She said, nodding her head. “Work is work. I understand. I was thinking of taking the kids around to the shops today, so we may run into you at the town center. Frankie’s been asking to go to Wheezes-”

“Actually, love, I had a talk with Grandmother yesterday, and she mentioned how down she’s been feeling for the past week.” He said. “Would you mind taking the kids to see her for a couple of hours? I’m sure she would love some company.”

“Of course. That would be lovely.” She said. “I suppose it has been a while since we’ve had a visit.”

He walked to the table and bent down to kiss her. Her lips remained closed and unmoving against his gentle ministrations.

Neville pulled back and peered at her.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” He asked, worried about her palpable disconnect.

Hermione nodded her head once. “You better go. Can’t be late for those students or they’ll stage a mutiny.”

He made his way to her home office, where they kept their Owl, and sent a short missive to his grandmother to expect Hermione and the kids.

As he took the Floo to the Headmistress’ office, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for maneuvering Hermione to keep her far away from Hogsmeade.

“You need me to cover for you?” Asked Filius. “Again?”

“Please.” Neville begged. “This is the last time, I promise.”

Filius gave him a wry smile. “That’s what you said last time, Professor Longbottom.”

Neville gave him a sheepish look. “I mean it this time?”

“Oh, go on!” Said the Charms professor with a flick of his wrist. “Off with you. I must say, I think I preferred it when you were just a student. Much better behaved back then. You’re more trouble, now that you’re a professor.”

“Thanks, Filius!” He said, backing away from his favorite coworker. “I owe you! I’ll take all of your Hogsmeade trips next term, I promise!”

“Promises, promises….” He heard Filius mutter under his breath, as he turned and sped out of the castle.

He was going to be late for his meeting.

The Three Broomsticks was nearly empty, save for the few overnight guests of the inn, taking in a late brunch at the pub. It was easy to spot who he was scheduled to meet.

She sat with her back to the front door, but her long, blonde hair gave her away immediately. Neville walked up and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, good,” Lizzy said, as she turned to face him with a brilliant smile. “You made it. I was worried you wouldn’t be able to get away.”

“I told her I had to chaperone at Hogsmeade.” He said, with a hesitant tone.

“Did she give you a hard time?”

“No.” He said. “But I think she’s getting suspicious. She’s been acting strange since last night.”

“You don’t think she suspects-” Lizzy said, glancing around the pub, as if afraid that Hermione might be lurking to catch them in the act.

“Don’t worry.” He said. “She’s busy with the kids, and they’re going to my grandmother’s for a long visit.”

“I’ve got you all morning, then.” She smirked. “I’ve got the room set up, just how you like it. You wanted the red, right?”

Neville nodded. “And the candles?”

She gave him a coy smile. “Would you like to go up and see it?”

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” He said, as he held out his hand to help her off the stool. She took it with one hand and smoothed down the wrinkles of her skirt with the other. They made their way up the rickety stairs of the inn and entered a large room on the second floor.

Hermione hustled the twins out of the Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, her hands full of the latest, top-of-the-line prank products. It was Frankie and Allie’s reward for being well-behaved during their visit with Augusta. As much as they loved their great-grandmother, the eight-year-olds could be quite rambunctious, and Hermione was not above bribery to ensure that they didn’t run around too much to stress out the old woman.

She had been hoping to run into Neville during their outing, as she could still see a few youngsters with Hogwarts scarves running about. She turned the corner to usher her kids into The Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer when she saw a familiar figure walking down the street toward them.

“Professor Flitwick?” She said, confused at seeing the supposedly ill teacher.

“Hello, Hermione.” He said as he approached them.

“Er...how are you?” She asked. She unconsciously put her children behind her, though they were up-to-date with their Dragonpox immunizations.

“Very well, thank you.” He said.

“Shouldn’t you be...” She tried to put delicately, “Resting?”

He huffed. “I would be resting right now, if Neville hadn’t asked me to cover for him again. This is the fourth Hogsmeade weekend he’s missed, and as much as I like the lad, I’m not as young as I used to be. I need these weekends to relax too.”

Hermione tried to control the tight coiling in the center of her chest. “So sorry.” She said. She grabbed each of her children’s hands and headed in the direction of her house. “Sorry, professor, but I’ve just remembered -- I have to go.”

After returning home and finding the place -- unsurprisingly -- empty, she took the twins to Grimmauld Place.

“Harry!” She said, as they stepped into the room from the fireplace.

A pounding of steps was heard on the stairs, and then Harry came into the parlor, looking shocked to see her.

“Hermione! What are you doing here?” He asked.

Her face felt like crumpling, but she held on, determined not to break down in front of her children.

“Is Ginny here? Can she look after Frank and Allie? I really need to talk to you.”

Harry nodded and called Ginny over. When the kids were taken up to James and Albus’ playroom, Hermione rushed to her best friend and collapsed against him in a heaving sob.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he rubbed the back of her hair in comfort.

She spilled everything; from Neville’s strange visits to the office, the necklace that’s obviously not meant for her, to the incriminating note, and now the bold-faced lie about chaperoning. She blubbered and sniffed, unsure that her ranting even made any sense.

“Shite,” Harry muttered under his breath. He planted a kiss on top of her head. “I’m so sorry, Hermione. There’s probably a good explanation for all of it, though.”

She stepped away from his embrace and gaped at him. “A good explanation? Harry-”

“I know.” He said, holding out his palms in surrender. “I know what it sounds like. But- er- I’m sure there’s something else going on. In fact, I’m positive.”

“Harry-” She said, still feeling skeptical.

“Listen, I’m sure everything will be cleared up by the end of the day.” He said. “And, if not, I’ll personally hold down Neville while you kick him in the guts. Deal?”

She sighed, still not fully convinced, nevertheless comforted by Harry’s reassurance.

“Why don’t you and the kids stay here for a while?” Harry said. “We were all planning on heading out later for dinner, but we’re just hanging around here for the afternoon.”

She gave him a small smile and nodded, and they left for the kitchen to hunt down some comfort food for her sore heart.

It was early evening when they all left Grimmauld Place in search of dinner. Ginny had a craving for Hannah Abbott’s lamb stew, so they made their way to The Three Broomsticks.

“Hello Hermione, Harry!” called Hannah as they entered the pub. The loud din of the diners made it almost impossible to hear her.

“How are you, Hannah? Can we get a table for seven, please?” Harry asked. They looked around, and the only empty seats were at the high, circular tables near the bar.

“Why don’t you go upstairs to one of the function rooms?” Hannah said. “So your tots will be more comfortable. I’ll be along in a minute to take your orders.”

Harry smiled and waved his thanks. He gestured for Hermione to lead the way and she walked up the stairs to the wooden door of one of the large private dining halls.

She opened the door and jumped when she heard a loud, “Surprise!”

Hermione stared around the room, slack-jawed, as she took in the circular tables decorated with red tablecloths and centerpieces and what looked like a hundred candles floated near the ceiling. It reminded her of the inviting common room at Gryffindor tower, a place she often admitted to Neville she missed dearly. She saw several dozens of people clapping and waving at her. Ministry friends and coworkers, old Hogwarts chums and teachers, even her parents and a few Muggle relatives filled the room to the brim, and in middle of it all was Neville, his face shining with excitement.

He stepped away from the crowd and enveloped her in a hug.

“Happy birthday, Hermione.” He said.

She stared at him, flabbergasted. She tried to speak, but couldn’t form the sentences in her head. Sooner than Hermione would have liked, she was pulled away, as her other guests clamored for her attention.

Hermione woke up to a soft chorus of giggling. She peeked out of her heavy eyelids to see Allie and Frank wearing matching yellow pajamas that said, ‘Mama’s favorite.’ Neville looked fondly from the door as their children each balanced a tray that held her traditional birthday breakfast. He winked at her seeing that she was awake. She immediately closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep.

“Frank!” Allie whispered urgently. “Mummy’s sleeping! What should we do?” Frank’s feet pattered closer to the bed. He thought for a moment before loudly declaring,

“Poke her cheek!” The elder brother wisely advised. Hermione snorted. He was the smarter of the two. She opened her eyes in time to have her children pounce on her, her breakfast carefully placed on the bedside table. She tickled her little ones as they each sang their own versions of the happy birthday song. She snuggled them close to her chest, grateful for her family. The bed sunk in next to her as Neville sat next to her. He kissed her forehead gently.

“Happy birthday love.” Hermione kissed him back.

“Eew! Mom! You’ll get cooties!” Allie shouted. Hermione laughed.

“How do you think you came about dear?” Both parents laughed at their horrified children’s stares. Chuckling, they divvied up the breakfast, getting crumbs and cream all over her bed.

After the exceptionally messy breakfast, Hermione sent the twins to get dressed for the day. She had just finished vanishing the mess when Neville reappeared in the room. She held her hands out and they hugged each other tightly. Hermione felt warm memories of the first time he hugged her after the war. It was the first time she realized Neville wasn’t just… Neville.

“Thank you for the party last night.” She looked up into his deep hazel eyes.

“Did I finally surprise you?” He asked a smirk beginning to creep up his face.

“Yes. I really thought it was just the necklace and the opera. Not that those weren’t enough. They were both more than enough. I’d have been more than happy with-“ Neville silenced her with a kiss.

“Hermione that necklace is not you at all. It’s okay if you don’t like it.” Hermione exhaled nervously.

“You seemed to be attached to it.”

“It’s an old family heirloom. I have a watch I was saving for Frank, we can give this necklace to Allie and the watch to Frank.”

“I love you so much.” Hermione murmured. She still felt guilty that she suspected Neville was cheating on her.

“You know, I’m relieved about the surprise party.” Hermione said nervously.

Neville raised an eyebrow. “Relieved?” he asked.

“After randomly finding you in my office when you knew I wasn’t there, the necklace, and then that note from Elizabeth in your jacket pocket I… Well I thought the worst.” She mumbled. Neville sat up immediately.

“Hermione, I would never-” Hermione waved her hand dismissively.

“It’s okay, I know it was for the party.” Neville’s face grew red at the mention of the surprise party. Hermione sat up as well.

“Neville…”

“It’s a surprise. It’s not ready yet. Not until Monday morning. I was going to surprise you with the Prophet when you woke up!” Neville spoke quickly his face changing colors fast enough to make him look like a rainbow.

“Neville.” Hermione said warningly. Neville threw himself and began pacing the length of the room. Hermione felt her stomach drop with every step. After about a minute of pacing he turned to Hermione his face etched with nerves.

“I can show you Hermione but you have to promise to not be mad! And it’s also not finished so you should take that into consideration as well and…” He began to mumble to himself as he started to pace again.

“Neville!” She was about to demand an explanation when he grabbed her arm and apparated them without a word. She stumbled into dirt and had to hold herself back from yelling at him for leaving their children alone without a sitter.

“Neville.” He held her hand to straighten her. She looked around, they were in a green-house. The walls and ceilings were clear and she could see that they were in an enclosure with many green houses. There were benches in between the small cottages that dotted around fence that caged in the enclosure.

She could feel the warding of at least four different repelling spells, retaining spells, and more notice me nots then the entire Ministry had. Those were just some of them. There was a strong smell that surrounded her and the purple and yellow flowers.

“Neville… What is this?” Why would he need so much warding?

“Well, we wouldn’t want anyone to discover it!” He laughed. Hermione began to agitated.

“Neville! What am I standing in?” Neville’s eyes went wide for a moment and then he smiled.

“Weed. Lots of weed. I’m making a killing dear.” Hermione’s jaw dropped. Neville burst into laughter until tears ran down his cheeks. She looked at the dark green stem with dark purple flowers lined up the stalk. Hermione stumbled backwards as the realization hit her. She whirled around looking at the different shades and colors of the blooming flowers. She took off running up the aisles and then into the green houses. The more she realized what Neville had created the more tears ran down her face.

She collapsed onto a bench when the realization became too much. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess and she felt as if something heavy was sitting on her chest constricting her breathing.

“Did you figure out what it was?” She opened her eyes to see Neville crouching in front of her.

“Aconite, mistletoe berries, Valerian, leaping toadstool, knotgrass, poppy heads, shrivel figs…” Hermione hiccuped.

“All ingredients that the Ministry won’t pay for in the Wolfsbane potion. I have enough donations to keep this place up and running for the next two hundred years. We have a gringotts account dedicated to just this sanctuary. The cottages are for recovering werewolves or werewolves that have taken the potion to join during the full moon. I planted aconite around the green houses so as to keep the transformed werewolves from entering and trampling the delicate plants.” Hermione pounced on Neville and kissed him, knocking them both to the ground.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She kissed him frantically her tears forgotten.

“You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be upset?” She asked incredulously.

“It was your dream and I-“ Neville groaned as Hermione began sucking on the side of his neck while simultaneously shedding his clothes.

“Umm… honey not that I’m opposed to… you know but the kids are at home….” Hermione cast her patronus telling Harry to go to her house immediately as she straddled her partner. They plunged into each other under a large sign that read; 'G.R.O.W: Granger’s Reserve of Wolfsbane.'


End file.
